The Winter Soldier: Birthday
by love.devil.movies.baby
Summary: It's not everyday that your best friend turns 100. Steve Rogers is out to throw one big bash for his bestie, with the help of Sam Wilson. But when the mission goes awry, they call in the big guns... Companion piece to The Winter Soldier: Redemption


**A/N:** **I own none of the Marvel Characters. This is an exercise in creativity and not to be used for profit.**

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"Cap, I don't think we're going to complete this mission," Sam placed his hands palm down on the surface in front of them. "You know I hate giving up. But we've messed up twice now."

Steve sighed. "Maybe we can still salvage it."

"Cap, be realistic. It's a lost cause."

"We can start over. We can—" Steve ran his hand through his dirty blonde hair, kept as short and uniform as it had been for 99 years.

"We're totally out of time. The target will be here within the hour. We need a plan B." Sam folded his arms, looking at Steve seriously. It was an uncharacteristic expression for the normally jovial man. His trademark, slightly gap-toothed grin was nowhere to be found.

Steve sighed, glancing at the mess in front of them. The cleanup alone could take an hour. "You've got a point. I wanted to do something nice though."

"We still can. But it's not coming from here." Sam gestured to the flour splattered surroundings.

"I thought this was going to be easier," Steve lamented from his place at the corner of the counter. He was fiddling with the buttons on the industrial sized mixer. "Maybe we didn't add enough eggs," Steve squinted into the bowl, counting the yellow yolks.

"I think it has more to do with the butter. It said 'soften' not melt." Sam sighed, glancing at the pale river cutting tracks into the flour.

"How are you supposed to soften butter?" Steve was growing frustrated now.

"Probably should have googled it," Sam poked at the batter with a spoon. "I can cook well enough, but it looks like I can't bake." The darker skinned man's face was streaked white. Steve knew his own face was dusted in it as well. They had a mishap with the mixer that resulted in an explosion of baking powder, salt and flour.

"So we need a new game plan," Steve grabbed a broom and began to sweep beneath the counters. He never could stand mess.

"You know what we need to do," Sam seized a sponge and began mopping up.

"She's supposed to be distracting him though," Steve rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"No choice. We have to bring in the big guns. We need her resources." Sam tossed the sopping wet sponge back into the kitchen sink.

"So we call her," Steve weighed their options.

"You know she already has a plan," Sam was already pulling off his apron.

"You think she thought we would fail?" Steve looked at his friend.

"I think she prepares for every possibility," Sam shrugged.

"All right. Let's call her." Steve finally resigned.

He and Sam crowded around Sam's phone as they dialed the number.

"Hello?" a heavily accented voice answered on the third ring.

"Hey princess, it's us," Sam announced them unceremoniously.

"Captain, Falcon, how are the two of you?" her voice was calm and measured as always.

"We have a situation, your highness," Steve's voice was heavy with shame.

"The mission failed?" she did not sound surprised.

"It's time for plan B," Sam confirmed.

"We will need to trade positions," she said casually.

"How do we switch without him noticing?" Steve asked.

"I have secured tickets to the upcoming Yankees game this afternoon. Perhaps we postpone the gathering for a few hours."

"Against the Red Sox?" Sam asked incredulously. "How did you manage that?"

"There are certain perks that come with being Wakandan royalty," you could hear her smile through the phone.

"So we go to the game…" Steve began.

"I will take care of the rest. Prepare to rendezvous at 19:00 hours," the princess Shuri said her goodbyes and hung up.

"I haven't been to a Yankees game since the 40s," Steve smiled despite himself. He and his oldest friend had managed to go once when they could scrape enough cash together. They spent all afternoon in the nosebleed seats, chowing down on hotdogs and delighting in every crack of the baseball off of the bat.

"Calm down," Sam teased. "This isn't your day." But he too looked excited.

"Do you have a jersey I could borrow? Mine's a little outdated." Steve followed him, grinning broadly.

"I've only got one. We better make a run to the mall before picking up the birthday boy," Sam was already grabbing his car keys.

"Maybe we wash our faces first," Steve called after him.

A half hour later, they were pulling up to James Buchanan Barnes' Brooklyn brownstone. The man in question was emerging from his front door, hand in hand with a rather stunning Wakandan woman. They were both out of uniform and in civilian clothing, though the woman still managed to look regal, even in jeans.

"Hello Steve and Sam," she kissed them both on the cheek as her boyfriend locked up. "Have you had an eventful day?" she gave them a conspirator's smile.

"Pretty lackluster so far," Sam was better at playing it cool than Steve was.

"I hear you have come to steal away my birthday boy," she teased Bucky who turned scarlet at her embarrassing pet phrase.

"It's not every day a guy turns 100," Steve smiled as he embraced his oldest friend and surrogate brother.

"Getting old, soldier," Sam threw in without missing a beat.

"I think I look good for my age," Bucky tossed back with a lopsided grin. "What do you think your highness?" he turned to his girlfriend. His metal arm was disguised under a jacket and gloves.

"You are lucky that I like older men," she answered good-naturedly.

"Men?" Bucky's head whipped around in faux surprise.

"Just one man," she corrected herself and kissed him. "You three had better go."

"You're not coming?" Bucky asked.

"I would hate to interrupt boy's day." She was already waving down a cab for herself.

"Something tells me you guys are here to distract me from something," Bucky watched her leave quizzically.

"Yup," Sam was unconcerned.

"So where are we going?" Bucky looked at them expectantly.

"Have you seen the new stadium?" Steve placed a ball cap on his friend's head.

Yankee stadium was packed enough that no one seemed to notice Captain America, the Falcon and the Winter Solider seated in the lower level along the first base line. In their Yankee's gear and baseball caps they looked just like everyone else.

"This is great!" Bucky's smile had not left his face since they pulled up to the house with brand new jerseys in tow. "How the hell did you get tickets?"

"Being a superhero has perks," Sam passed him a frosty beer in a plastic cup.

"Shuri?" Bucky asked knowingly as he accepted the cup.

"Yup," Steve answered.

"You know, I kinda figured I'd hate this new stadium, but it's not bad." Bucky surveyed their surroundings approvingly.

"It's been a while since we saw a game," Steve mused.

"70-something years," Bucky confirmed.

"Are you guys going to talk about the 'good ol' days'?" Sam asked without taking his eyes off of the game. "Maybe I'll take a bathroom break."

"We'll keep the nostalgia to a minimum," Bucky assured him.

"Although you think you'd cut us some slack on his birthday," Steve protested.

Sam grinned with a shrug. "I guess I can let it slide for a few hours." He shoveled a bite of hotdog into his mouth.

By the 11th inning, Steve and Sam were beginning to get nervous. 1900 hours was fast approaching, and knowing Shuri, her surprise could very well be time sensitive. Bucky was enjoying the overtime and the pair could think of no reason to make him leave the game without giving up the whole mission.

"What's the play?" Steve's phone buzzed with a message from Sam.

"No idea," Steve tried to text as subtly as Sam did, but he didn't have as much experience with it.

"Are you guys texting each other?" Bucky's quick eyes caught them.

"Nope. Texting your girl," Sam lied evenly.

"What?" Bucky turned his attention away from the game.

"She's trying to get a hold of you. Something about dinner."

"Huh," Bucky checked his own phone, looking confused. "I'll tell her we'll meet after the game."

"Maybe we'll make it in time," Sam muttered under the pretense of setting his empty beer cup on the ground.

Exiting the parking lot was an excruciating ordeal, and both Bucky and Steve lamented the surge in traffic since their youth.

"Enough griping, grumpy old men," Sam instructed, weaving expertly through traffic. "It's almost time for dinner."

"Where are we eating?" Bucky stretched in the backseat

"It's a surprise," Steve went with the truth.

"A surprise at your house?" Bucky glanced at the street signs as they whizzed by.

"It's so damn hard to throw a party for a superhero," Sam grinned at Bucky from the rearview mirror.

"Kinda figured you might do something. They tell me 100 is a big deal." The brunet man leaned back into the seat. His hair was still long, reaching his chin. It was pulled back into a little nub of a ponytail, his off work look. He looked nearly the same as he did in 1945, except for the expression he wore during quiet moments. He might never smile as much as he used to, but his teammates were determined to give him a good birthday.

"So is the whole team going to jump out and shout 'surprise'?" Bucky asked as they piled out of the car.

"Don't make us spoil the whole thing," Steve instructed.

"Fair enough," Bucky consented.

"You first," Steve gestured at the front door to his building.

Bucky took the stairs two at a time.

"Looks like someone's more excited than he wants to let on," Sam observed with a smirk.

"Here goes nothing," Bucky grasped the doorknob to Steve's apartment with his metal hand.

The lights flicked on as the door opened, revealing décor Steve did not recognize as his own living space. It was like a blast from the past, down to the most miniscule detail. The lighting fixtures had been replaced with lamps casting a soft glow. Someone had hooked his record player back up; it was crooning tunes that hadn't been popular in a century. The furniture had been draped in different fabrics to lend it an antique look. To complete the picture, Shuri, her brother, T'Challa, and the rest of the team were dressed as though it was a club in 1945.

"Happy Birthday!" the synchronized cry went up all at once from a host of their friends. Even Tony was present and outfitted accordingly, his arm looped around Pepper Potts.

"Holy crap," Bucky's mouth hung open as he took in the scene in front of him. "Did you guys know about this?"

"Yeah..." Sam said at the same time that Steve stood gaping like a fish.

"So it was Shuri," Bucky grinned at them both.

"They helped," the woman in question appeared from behind a large birthday cake wearing a khaki pencil skirt and top, her thick, kinky hair was twisted back and tucked under to reflect the fashion of the 40s. "You boys need to change," Shuri told them kindly. "Your outfits are upstairs." She shooed Bucky off in that direction, but stopped Steve and Sam.

"Would you two mind handling the cake?" she was already handing it over as she asked.

"You trust us?" Steve asked as the frosted dessert was foisted upon him.

"With my life, Captain. And the cake," Shuri smiled at the two of them.

A half hour later found the whole party stationed around a monstrous two-tiered cake glowing with 100 candles. It had taken Sam and Steve the better part of 20 minutes to get all of them positioned in and lit. It was worth it for the look on Bucky's face.

"Mission accomplished," Sam whispered to Steve as Bucky, dressed in his old (and restored) army uniform, frantically attempted to blow out 100 trick candles to the amusement of the whole party.

"Well done, soldier," Steve high fived him and joined in the laughter.

"Should we help him out?" Sam asked amusedly.

"I think he's got it," Steve laughed. Bucky was pinching the flames out with his vibranium hand.

"Happy Birthday, partner," Sam clasped him on the shoulder while Steve snuck around to shove a piece of cake into his face.

"100 looks good on you," Steve shouted as his cake smeared best friend seized a slice in order to retaliate.

Shuri saved the rest of the cake before a food fight broke out, but Sam, Steve and Bucky all ended up frosting smeared.

"How do you feel?" Steve asked him from their place behind the kitchen sink as they wiped up.

Bucky shrugged. "Might go for 100 more," he smiled. "This isn't too bad. Thanks guys." He tossed a wet towel at them.

"Our pleasure," Steve wiped cake from his face for the second time in 24 hours, this time with a smile.

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